


to rise and sink again

by sylviaviridian



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Drowning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fae & Fairies, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Jenny Greenteeth - Freeform, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Resuscitation, emetophobia warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24629512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylviaviridian/pseuds/sylviaviridian
Summary: It was a nice day in Il Mheg, until the Fuath almost drowned Urianger, forcing him to lean on Thancred to help him through the trauma.
Relationships: Urianger Augurelt/Thancred Waters
Comments: 18
Kudos: 129





	to rise and sink again

**Author's Note:**

> brief, vague emetophobia warning after Urianger is revived from near-drowning
> 
> _Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink  
>  Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain;  
> Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink  
> And rise and sink and rise and sink again;_

It happened within moments. The three of them were on their way home from an outing to gather a particular type of flower the pixies had requested, walking alongside the edge of the lake on their way back to the Bookman's Shelves beneath a cloudless sky, the renewed sapphire blue still fresh and novel even after months had passed since the return of night and day. Bright springtime sun warmed the rolling landscape and cast prismatic rays off the crystalline spires that decorated the rockier areas, and the water of the lake, too, glittered with placid invitation, though one all of them knew better than to accept. As they strolled along, Thancred was in the midst of telling Urianger a story about his and Ryne's recent visit to the Crystarium, when Ryne suddenly cried out.

"There's someone in the water!" She pointed, and sure enough, floating face-down was what looked like a woman of indeterminate race, in a billowing white dress. Her limbs dangled limply, hands and feet submerged in the water weeds that clustered in the shallows, and the shroud of her dark hair made it hard to distinguish the shape of her head or ears.

"The Fuath?" Thancred asked tensely, a frown crossing his face as he paused, clearly unsure whether to approach.

"There are few culprits as likely," Urianger conceded. Something about the sight seemed in some way familiar, as he stared at the unfortunate woman, but he couldn't quite place the memory.

Ryne was already the closest of them, and she spotted the movement first - just a twitch of a long pale arm, enough to offer a slim hope that the woman wasn't the corpse she had at first appeared to be. "I think she's alive!" Without a moment's hesitation, she darted toward the edge of the water, obviously intending to save the woman before it was truly too late.

"No!" The memory that Urianger had been trying to recall came clear all at once: an old book of rather gruesome fairy tales meant to caution children had described a woman in white who drowned unattended children that happened across her. He dashed forward on impulse, feet carrying him past Thancred's bewildered look toward the water's edge, just before the spectre of a woman raised her head to show a twisted, ghastly face and vividly green teeth caked with algae. He had just enough time to cast a magic tether to pull Ryne to safety, out of the creature's sudden lunge with long grasping fingers; but his sandals slid in the muck at the water's edge, his momentum still carrying him toward the malicious fae.

Howling at the loss of her prey, the ghoulish woman's pale, clawlike fingers closed around Urianger's ankle instead, their texture wet and rubbery. Dread filled his stomach as he gasped in as much air as he could, his terrified gaze turning back to the others. He was barely able to register the sight of Thancred, having made it to the water's edge, reaching out in an attempt to save him, just before he was pulled out and under the lake's surface by an inhuman strength.

Urianger had not survived Il Mheg this long by being unprepared to deal with fae malice. With panic beating in his ears as the water darkened too swiftly around him, he still managed to keep his wits enough to reach for a pouch at his belt, where he kept a vial of dryweed oil for the rare occasions he needed to go wading. Prepared correctly, the stuff was noxious to the Fuath, and served as an excellent repellent - although ordinarily he would have applied it prior to entering the water. But the water was rushing past him too quickly for him to remove the cork, and even if he could, merely dumping it into the water would only leave a trail where he'd been, doing nothing to harm his captor herself - or themself, rather, as despite the feminine disguise he knew the Fuath that must be underneath it would take no more notice of gender than any other fae.

In desperation, he focused on forming another tether, this time to drag the creature into a range he could affect. Unprepared for their prey to close the distance between them in such a fashion, they snarled at him, and he clenched his jaw to keep from crying out and losing air as he shoved the vial directly into their face, breaking it upon those bared green teeth. A terrible shriek reverberated through the water, dazing him with the force of the sound, but at last their grip on him was broken: reeling, with glamour in tatters and beginning to reveal the amphibian silhouette beneath, the creature swam away from the cloud of glass shards and foul oil, abandoning their prey at last and disappearing into the darkness of the lake's depths.

Despite having gained his freedom, however, Urianger was far from out of danger. Now that he had the chance to look around himself, he could see that he had been dragged a long way toward the center of the lake, and the surface was farther above even than he'd realized. His lungs were already aching for air after his exertions; surely it was too far now to reach, but what choice did he have? Doing his best to ignore the cold despair crawling up his belly, he kicked doggedly toward the surface with what little skill he could muster, legs tangling in his robes as his vision began to dim further and further.

Just before he lost consciousness entirely, he thought he saw a dark shape sweeping down upon him from above, but he was too far gone to identify whether it might be friend or foe.

Ryne sat anxiously by the water's edge, far enough to be out of the reach of any more Fuath who might try to finish what the first had started, clutching at Thancred's abandoned coat. The horror in his voice as he'd called for the vanished Urianger still lingered in her memory, just as much as Urianger's haunting gaze as he'd been pulled under after saving her. Thancred had, of course, gone in pursuit almost immediately, but she wasn't sure how long it had been now since she'd seen either of them, since their sunny afternoon had gone so badly wrong.

And then she saw a shadow beneath the water, out toward the middle of the lake, which quickly resolved itself into the shape of Thancred bursting through the surface with Urianger slung over his shoulder. Relief filled her just as he filled his lungs, gasping a few breaths before swimming toward shore, but it began to fade as she saw how pale Urianger looked beside him. As he staggered back up onto land with water sluicing off both their bodies, she noted that the elf was entirely limp, not supporting any of his own weight.

"I-is he…" She couldn't finish the thought, horror closing her throat.

"I don't know," Thancred admitted, still breathlessly curt as he lowered Urianger to the ground. He swore almost immediately as he began checking the elf over. "Not breathing," he muttered, then pressed a thumb to the side of Urianger's neck. "...but there's a pulse. Right side, second pocket down."

It was a command, and one Ryne hurried to obey, nimble fingers rifling through her guardian's coat to find the right pocket, thankful for the opportunity to replace thought with action. From the corner of her eyes, she could see Thancred leaning down to...kiss Urianger? No, he was breathing into the man's mouth, she had heard of this. There weren't many boats in Norvrandt anymore, as there was nowhere to go on them except fishing, but she dimly remembered him telling her at one point that he'd grown up in a city with lots of them, and in this moment Ryne couldn't be more thankful that Thancred's patchwork past had left him with the knowledge of how to care for someone in just this situation.

She found what she'd been instructed to pursue, drawing out a long, glowing-orange feather, and moved over to Urianger's side. Carefully, feeling its latent power tingling against her fingertips, she pressed the feather into her other guardian's terribly still chest and watched as its form dissipated and merged with his aether.

And then the worst was over: Urianger gasped in a breath, his chest began to rise and fall, and some of the coiled tension left Thancred's shoulders, just as Ryne felt her own heart was beginning to beat again. "Back up, he'll cough up what he swallowed," Thancred instructed her firmly, and as she obeyed, he turned Urianger onto his side with practiced ease.

The first thing Urianger was aware of as his consciousness returned was warmth, at his mouth and at his chest, and a fleeting sense of peace and comfort carried with it.

The second thing he became aware of was that he was going to be ill immediately, and it was a relief that firm hands helped him roll over just in time to spill the contents of his stomach across the damp ground. From the feel of what was leaving his body, he'd swallowed quite a lot of water...his thoughts were still hazy, but as he gasped for breath between choking gags, memory began to trickle back. He'd been pulled into the lake...struggled with a Fuath...and then…

"Thancred?" he hazarded, wincing at the hoarseness of his own voice.

"It's me," Thancred's voice confirmed from behind him, soft and as warm as the hand that patted his back solidly. "Back with us?"

"Aye." His eyes slipped closed for a moment, the brief rush of adrenaline giving way to sheer exhaustion, and even with Thancred's guiding touch it was all he could do to collapse onto his back again instead of falling over face first. "And Ryne?"

"I'm here, too," Ryne answered, sounding a little subdued. "I'm so sorry... if I had known…"

"'Tis no matter," Urianger assured her, golden eyes fluttering half open to seek her out. She was holding herself back away from where he lay, looking more contrite than he'd seen in a long while, and his heart ached at the sight even despite his weariness. "Thine instinct was true… I recalled too late that the lady of the shallows...is but another trick the Fuath play, particularly upon children. Glad am I...that thou art unharmed."

"That goes for both of you," Thancred replied, patting him firmly on the shoulder. "Come on, let's get you home. You'll feel better once we get you warmed up and all this mud washed off."

In the end, once they finally reached the Bookman's Shelves, Urianger was forced to declare himself too exhausted for a proper bath, and instead resorted to rinsing his hair in his sink and toweling off very thoroughly. Neither Thancred nor Ryne had pushed him to speak much as they fussed over wrapping him in blankets and bringing him stew, all of which he was deeply grateful for, although he continued to reassure Ryne when he could find the words that he held no grudge over the incident.

As night fell at last, he sat staring into the fire after she'd gone to bed, too worn down even to read, his anxious mind still humming with tension. Thancred wandered in casually, having seen to cleaning up from dinner, and Urianger turned to regard him as he approached.

"Do you remember what happened?" Thancred asked quietly, coming to lean on the back of the couch beside Urianger's shoulder. "After they pulled you under, I mean."

Urianger nodded, the gesture still stiff and heavy. The cold of the lake still seemed to linger in his bones, even now that he was dry and safe. "...I drove them away with dryweed oil, but we were already too deep...thou art aware of how weak I am as a swimmer, and though I struggled mightily for the surface…"

"...You weren't breathing when I pulled you out," Thancred admitted, voice soft and dark. "I thought...for a moment, I really thought that was it. Just one stupid slip, and…"

"...I had conceived as much," Urianger confessed. "The warmth I felt upon waking… 'twas a costly revival. Thou wouldst not have needed to resort to such measures, unless I had been at the very brink."

"Exactly," Thancred murmured, and placed a hand on his shoulder; Urianger allowed himself to bask in the warm weight of it, distracting him from the chill that he couldn't seem to banish. "I can't even tell you not to do it again...I know we'd both give that much for her, and gladly. But…" He hesitated, then shook his head and withdrew. "...I don't even know what I mean to say. Just...thank you, I suppose."

"I shall make every effort to worry thee less in the future," Urianger replied, forcing a slight smile that he wished he felt more sincerely.

Thancred smiled back at him, visibly relieved, then glanced from the couch to the stairs. "...Will you be able to manage? I don't mind helping you to bed if the stairs are a bit much right now. Considering what you've just been through."

"I am quite capable of navigating to mine own bed," Urianger promised, more out of pride than out of any real certainty. He took a deep breath before rising to his feet, a little less steadily than he would have liked. All the while as he made his way carefully up the stairs, he could feel Thancred's watchful eyes upon his back, until he turned through the doorway that led to his bedroom. When he finally arrived, he could hardly remember changing into nightclothes, or sinking into the cradling warmth of his bed.

The next thing he knew with certainty, he was back on the muddy bottom of the lake, air stale in his lungs and the clammy water surrounding him seeming to stick to his skin. He struggled for the surface as entangling weeds pulled at his limbs, but the more he fought their grip, the more of them appeared to bind him, until he could find no purchase for his desperate thrashing. As his will gave out and he was forced to draw in a deep breath, with the water's bright surface remaining still out of reach above his face

he awoke and found himself pulling in a lungful of clear night air.

He was staring at his ceiling, and as he turned his head, the rest of the room gradually came into focus. Outside his window, the stars hung still in a peaceful sky, moonlight streaming in to fall across his sweat-beaded face. When he tried to move, he found that his limbs were twisted in the bedding - no doubt the source of the weeds which had been troubling him so. It took a long, slow moment to extract himself from their grip, and then he was able to sit up fully and run a hand through his hair, already tousled by troubled sleep. It was still hours before dawn, and he was still deeply weary. He should turn over and let himself sink back into sleep...but even as he considered it, he could feel the pull of the water longing to rise up around him once again.

He shook his head and forced his eyes back open, realizing only as he did so that they'd drifted closed at all. Clearly, more rest was out of the question for the moment - he needed to take some time to let the nightmares clear away before he could be assured of any peace. Clad only in his flannel pajama pants, he instead made his way downstairs and into the kitchen, taking as much care as he could not to disturb Thancred in his customary place asleep on the couch on his way past.

Taking a cup from one of the cabinets, he padded quietly across the wooden floor in his bare feet, to the tap above the basin, and began filling it with fresh water. Ordinarily he would make tea using the kettle upon the stove, but all his efforts at keeping quiet would be rendered entirely moot by its whistle - water alone would have to suffice for the moment. All he really needed was something else to focus on besides the darkness and silence, while he gave himself time to awaken far enough that the nightmare wouldn't repeat. A little time spent in the here and now, this solid and ordinary world, would surely allow him to push back the flickering shadows from his mind and heart.

Distracted by these thoughts, his mind was only half attending to the cup as it filled. Until, that is, the face of the hag appeared upon the water's surface, grinning up at him viciously with green teeth fully bared. He gasped and dropped the cup; it clattered in the sink and tipped over, the water draining away, but he was already backed up against the far counter, limbs trembling uncontrollably.

He could feel a distant corner of his mind insisting that what he had seen had only been the reflection of the near-full moon, that the dreams and the terror of the day were conjuring up visions. The rest of him was too frozen in terror to pay reason any mind, gaze fixed upon the sink as if he expected his foe to rise from it at any moment. Tears began to fill his eyes as his heart hammered in his chest, spilled over and down his cheeks while he struggled to stay silent, his breath hitching and chest heaving wildly in the fight to keep from sobbing aloud.

Nothing came from the sink; instead, a shadow approached him from the side, startling him into spinning toward the sudden movement. As his wild gaze refocused, he realized it was Thancred, with hands extended in a placating gesture. Urianger tried to find words to speak, to explain himself, to apologize, but all that emerged from his throat was a hiccup, and he ruthlessly quashed the sob that lay behind it back down into silence, even as fresh tears spilled from his eyes.

"Shush. Shush. It's okay." Thancred laid a hand on his arm, and it was warm, and Urianger remembered that he was still trembling badly. "You're all right, it's just me. You understand?"

Urianger managed a nod. His face flared hot with embarrassment to be caught in such a state, but he still couldn't find the words to explain without letting loose the torrent of anguish wrapped around his heart, forcing him to put all his will just into breathing steadily. More tears ran relentlessly down his cheeks, soaking into his beard and splashing onto his bare chest.

"I know. It's all right." Thancred's voice was soft and soothing, and although it didn't unwind the knot of horror and upset he was holding in place by sheer willpower alone, hearing those words did loosen the grip of the shame crawling over Urianger's skin. Thancred was safe; Thancred knew what it was to suffer emotion that would not be reasoned with. Here he was, willing to ride out the storm. "Let's just go out and sit on the couch, okay?"

Another nod, and he covered the hand on his arm with his own, curling his fingers around it and pleading with his eyes for Thancred to take the lead, hoping that somehow his friend would understand what lay behind the look. And for a wonder, he seemed to: with a reassuring smile, Thancred laced their fingers together and guided him out of the kitchen.

The couch was still warm with body heat as he sat down, the softness of the comforter Thancred slept beneath cradling him slightly. Thancred sat beside him, at just enough of a distance that he could pull Urianger down to lean on his shoulder and wrap him in a firm embrace. The texture of Thancred's skin against his own was inexpressibly comforting, warm and solid and real, and Urianger didn't have the will to pull away or even pretend that this touch wasn't exactly what he wanted most. "You've always been like this," Thancred murmured regretfully into his hair, the muted words filtering through gradually. "I don't think you know how _not_ to just bottle things up until they explode, do you? But it's all right. I'm here, I've got you now. You can let go."

Urianger took one long, shuddering breath, and reached out carefully to wrap his arms around Thancred's torso in return. When the next breath hitched with the sobs he'd been holding back, he slowly released that instinctive restraint and let them shake him apart at last. Trusting in the heat of Thancred's body and the strength of his arms, Urianger crumbled to pieces and wept against his companion's bare chest, the terror he'd been holding back finally flooding out of him in shuddering waves of emotion that he could only feel and feel, and distantly hope that they would subside when they had finally finished with him.

As he cried, he felt Thancred's hands stroking his back, occasionally moving up to card through his hair; the touches were soothing and unhurried, easing him through the rise and fall of his sobbing, gentling the sharp edges of his broken composure without attempting to rush him into putting himself back together. Eventually, little by little, the pain and fear began to recede until he could steady his breathing again without having to hold it, and for a moment he considered pulling away from the cradling embrace. But as his muscles began to tense in retreat, Thancred's arms tightened around him again to hold him in place, and in response his breath caught once more, forcing him to realize that just because the pain was under control didn't mean it was gone. He settled back down, face still buried in Thancred's chest, and succumbed to another wave of trembling and hiccups, allowing the touch of fingertips down his spine to soothe away the tension he hadn't let himself be aware he was still holding onto.

It took longer than he would ever have dared ask, but Thancred never so much as attempted to move away, or expressed any sort of impatience. As he continued to relax further and further, Urianger eventually found himself breathing steadily without having to force himself calm, his lungs filling and emptying without even a hint of shudder. He'd been pressed against Thancred so long now that the position no longer felt strange, so he only tilted his head upward to attempt to meet Thancred's gaze, his own eyes tired and red-rimmed but finally clear.

Thancred was smiling down at him softly. "Doing better?" he asked, voice light and gentle.

"Significantly," Urianger confirmed, then sniffled and raised a hand in an attempt to wipe some of the lingering saltwater from his face. For a moment there was an apology on his lips, but the shape of it felt too wrong to voice; Thancred had clearly not chosen to behave this way out of any sense of obligation, and implying that he had would cheapen the gesture. "...Thou hast...my deepest gratitude," he said instead.

"You're welcome," Thancred replied warmly. He reached down to brush a few droplets of moisture from Urianger's cheek with his fingertips, and Urianger leaned into the touch; but his brow furrowed as they both became more aware of how much mess there actually was. "Ah...sit up for just a moment? I'll be right back, I know where you keep the linens."

Urianger nodded and sat up enough to support his own weight, rubbing the back of his hand across his eyes again to clear his lashes and feeling Thancred rise from beside him. Though some part of him regretted the loss of warmth and skin contact, he found that he was no less relaxed for it; even the normal tension of maintaining personal boundaries didn't seem ready to creep back in yet after that catharsis. He sat there just waiting for a few minutes, feeling somehow comfortably blank and paying more attention to the texture of the comforter under his fingertips and the sound of running water in the kitchen than any abstract thought that might have wandered through his mind. Eventually Thancred returned with a cloth, wet at one corner from what Urianger realized must have been the tap running a moment ago, and offered it to him wordlessly. Urianger took it with a grateful nod and begun to clean his face, and while he did that, Thancred settled back down right where he'd been before, a steady presence just inside Urianger's personal space.

Urianger wasn't quite sure what to expect next, and took his time cleaning his face with first the damp half of the cloth and then the dry one. The reasoning part of his mind was beginning to kick back in with a melancholy reminder that he should probably return to his own room and his own bed, stop imposing on Thancred's kindness, but...he didn't want this moment of easy comfort to be over just yet. Instead, he lowered the cloth slowly once he'd finished drying off, and met Thancred's eyes again with a soft smile, searching his features for guidance. Thancred smiled back, took the cloth to set aside, and tugged him close by the shoulder, and with a relieved sigh Urianger leaned in again to share in that comforting embrace.

"You're thinking too much again," Thancred told him, his tone playfully admonishing. "...And I know you're used to it, and I know all the reasons why. All the times you spent thinking about other people, bending around their comfort so they wouldn't have to think about making way for others…" Strong arms tightened around Urianger for a moment. "All the times you moved to make my way easier, since we've been here...don't think I haven't noticed." He ran his hand gently through Urianger's hair, and Urianger let him, just listening. "You're so stubbornly self-sufficient, it's hard to find chances to repay you for it all."

Urianger sighed, contemplating his words. "I am hardly the only one," he replied slowly, voice low and rumbling through his chest. "Thine efforts in return have not gone unnoticed, either; many are the circumstances in which thou hast proved more capable than I of addressing a situation's needs. And 'tis only meet that I comfort those who have suffered more than I. My life hath been one of ease in comparison."

"Oh, don't," Thancred replied. "Even if that mattered, you torment yourself enough for three people, over things you can't even help." His fingers continued stroking through Urianger's hair, only to curl and still at the base of his skull for a moment. "And all I want is… that is… all I mean…"

For all Urianger's poetry, Thancred was the one of them who was actually better at _talking_ ; Urianger had never heard him so lost for words. Confused, he braced his open palm on the bare chest beneath him for support, and lifted his head to look Thancred in the face, noting how the hand still in his hair moved to cradle his head. "Thancred?"

Thancred was looking down at him with eyes wide, a vulnerable longing written over his face that Urianger had never seen...at least, not directed at himself. His heart fluttered, and with the uptick of his pulse he found his lips parting to take in more air. Thancred's free hand came up to cradle the other side of Urianger's face, the backs of his fingers tracing over the tattoo on his cheek and fingertips coming to rest at the edge of his jaw, warm and delicate. He licked his lips carefully, and swallowed once. "What I _want_ ," he murmured softly into the warm darkness between them, "is to kiss you. If that's all right."

With heat blooming across his skin and his heart beginning to race, Urianger nodded once, a little hesitantly - not out of any real uncertainty as to his own answer, but because he had never been asked this way, certainly not by anyone who mattered as much to him as Thancred did, and he wasn't entirely sure what he was doing. To ease any doubts as to his willingness, he shifted his weight further toward Thancred and upward, leaning toward the lips that were already moving to catch his.

The taste of Thancred's mouth on his was overwhelmingly _right_ , the softness of lips and delving tongue wiping away any last lingering trace of doubt; before he knew it, his hand was in Thancred's hair as well, holding him there, urging him to linger as long as they could. Even when at last pounding hearts became too much, he found himself still chasing after the kiss a little, tongue flickering out for one last taste of the other's lips even as Thancred began to pull away, a gesture which earned him the sort of grin he'd always found irresistibly charming. And to his own surprise, he was already smiling back, something like joy dancing through his veins in the pattering of his pulse despite all his fatigue.

"Well," Thancred said, a faint laugh hovering just under his words as he brushed a lock of hair from Urianger's eyes. "I...hadn't imagined you so _eager._ " He took a deep breath and relaxed backward, shifting their positions to something a little more comfortable for resting. "Gods, if there weren't a dozen reasons why here and now is a bad idea...but to be honest, today is catching up with me, and you must be completely worn out."

Urianger nodded, and the reply he began was punctuated with a wide yawn. "Thou art quite correct, of course…" Just to prove himself less than thoroughly naive, in the name of pride, he traced a single fingertip along the muscles of Thancred's chest, and was pleased when the Hyur shivered slightly beneath him. "...In all respects," he finished, a little smugly. "And from thy posture, I expect thou hast no intention of sending me away to mine own bed."

"It would really be a shame to ruin that end to the evening by making either of us sleep alone," Thancred agreed, one hand stroking Urianger's shoulder blade. "And if you have another dream, I'd rather be here for it."

"Mmm." Urianger closed his eyes and pillowed his head on Thancred's chest. "Thou art warm enough to chase away any dream of cold depths by thy presence alone. I think I shall not want for comfort before dawn."

The hand on his back moved upward to rest on his head, and he could hear Thancred's breathing beginning to slow, drifting toward sleep. "Nor ever again, if I have any say in it."

**Author's Note:**

>  _Love cannot fill the thickened lung with breath,  
>  Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone;  
> Yet many a man is making friends with death  
> Even as I speak, for lack of love alone._  
>    
> \- Excerpt from [Love is Not All](https://poets.org/poem/love-not-all-sonnet-xxx), by Edna St. Vincent Millay
> 
> When you write hurt/comfort as an escape, sometimes you want to work on something that moves a little faster than many chapters of slow burn.
> 
> If you enjoyed this fic, please consider joining [Emet-Selch's Wholesomely Debauched and Enabling Book Club,](https://discord.gg/KkyyEEB) where we talk about fanfiction, and encourage more writing and less shame at all times. If you think this invitation is for people who are more involved than you: think again, and consider following anyway! Anyone and everyone is welcome to chime in, so long as they enjoy fanfic.


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